


USO

by thevictorinox



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Drabble, Ficlet, Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Steve Rogers Feels, Steve and the wonders of modern technology, uso
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 05:57:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7496529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thevictorinox/pseuds/thevictorinox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite Tony's insistence that he use the private fleet of planes that Stark Industries pays for, he prefers this. It's still novel, walking through the airport, waiting in lines for the pat down in TSA, the shocked double-glance from tired airport agents when they look at his identification and ticket then back up at him to ensure that yes, that's actually Captain America. He keeps telling people that he's not, he doesn't have the shield with him, but they still stare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	USO

Steve Rogers steps past the frosted glass windows emblazoned with the USO logo across them in Terminal Five. He smiles at the girl behind the desk, this time it's Heather, but there's a rotation of about five he's seen, they all know him, not just from the TV and papers, he stops in every time he flies commercial. It's fairly often for non-emergency business. 

Despite Tony's insistence that he use the private fleet of planes that Stark Industries pays for, he prefers this. It's still novel, walking through the airport, waiting in lines for the pat down in TSA, the shocked double-glance from tired airport agents when they look at his identification and ticket then back up at him to ensure that yes, that's actually Captain America. He keeps telling people that he's not, he doesn't have the shield with him, but they still stare.

"Hi Steve." Heather says, sweetly. 

"Hello Heather." He smiles.

"Where are you off to this time?" She asks.

"Orlando." She tilts her head to the side and he sees it, the faint glimmer of sadness associated with hearing the city. It's then that he sees the loop of rainbow ribbon pinned to the collar of her polo. Her eyes follow his and she brushes her fingers over it. "Yeah." Is all he can say as if it answers the question she didn't ask. "So...is it busy today?" 

Heather brightens and looks at her computer.

"Well, right now it's a few families, and a couple of Marines going to a new base." She pauses, clicking through a few screens. "When's your flight? I've got a whole platoon coming home from Kuwait, they land in two hours."

"Got about an hour...sorry." He frowns.

"It's all good, you just write something nice on the whiteboard okay?" She says playfully.

"Oh, I will." He gives her one of those softer smiles and picks up his leather duffle, walking into the lounge. 

Steve isn't technically an active soldier anymore. He's 'private sector' as Tony had explained but no one's stopped him from going into this places of refuge. It's amazing to him to see what the USO has become since his time performing with the girls in spandex costumes while they twirled and kicked around him.

He likes to sit with the active-duty soldiers and their families, thanking them for their service, signing plastic action figures and comic books for starry-eye kids. He even sits quietly with widows and parents as they are escorting their fallen spouses or children home.

His favourite is taking pictures with them, even though it's still odd that they can be instantly shown to the world. He joked once that he's taking so many selfies he should have his own hashtag. It was funny until a ninteen year old private first class showed him "#selfieswithcap" on Instagram. Steve still doesn't understand how it's trending after five months but he secretly enjoys looking through the tag and seeing all the faces he's met.

There are a few people scattered about, the marines in the corner, sprawled in their chairs, headphones in, face masks over their eyes. He remembers the satisfaction of being able to catch a few hours of sleep. A mother holding her baby is on one of the sofas, rocking the little thing, she catches his eye and he nods to her.

"S-Steve?" He stops, mid-stride, hearing his name in an aged, wobbled voice and turns. There's an older woman, hair nearly white, coiffed neatly, settled in one of the leather chairs, beside her is a middle-aged man and two teenagers with their noses in their phones. "It is you, Steve Rogers." She says, staring up with that vague wonder so many have when they can't believe he's standing right before them

"Mom-" The man says, going to stop her. The son smiles apologetically, clearly embarrassed.

"Hush....I know him."

"It's alright..." Steve says gently. He understands, older people remember him from the old propaganda and get confused. "Can I?" He gestures to an open seat and the man nods. Steve never really fits in these chairs properly, his limbs are too long, he's too tall but he makes due as he sits across from the woman.

"We do know each other...I know I look different, I didn't age as well as you did." She goes on, her son opens his mouth to speak and she raises a finger to silence him. "We did the shows together, in Germany. You used to draw pictures of us when we all played cards between shows." Steve's brows raised. "I taught you how to get pencil smudges out of your clothes." She continued with an amused smile.

"Betty..." Steve said softly. "Betty Covington!" The old woman nodded and smiled wide.

"Oh good, you do remember me." Her son looks flabergasted. "Though I'm Betty Mayfield now..." She trailed off. "You know...I met my husband because of you...I never did get to thank you for that."

Steve looks at her with confusion, he's sure there's a story. Betty obliges him by continuing.

"My husband was Corporal Robert Mayfield. He was part of the group you brought back across enemy lines when you freed those men." She explains. Steve didn't know the corporal personally, but he was one of many faces he had encountered during the mission. He gets the sense that Robert isn't alive anymore but doesn't ask. "Thank you so much..."

Steve feels shy and looks down at his hands resting on his knees. It's one thing to thank someone else but when someone gives him gratitude he still feels unworthy.

"It didn't seem right to leave them there. I'm glad that he found you, you're swell." He slips into the vernacular of a past life and feels a little silly for it. "So, this is your family then?" He smiles up to the son and holds out his hand, the kids are starting to take an interest, one has been filming this since he noticed Steve, trying to be sly about it. "I'm Steve Rogers."

"Frank Mayfield" He says, taking the hand and shaking it, bewildered. "These are Betty's grand kids, Jason and Mallory."

"Frank is my youngest, we had six." Betty explains. 

"And where are you guys flying to?"

"Georgia, Frank's wife Amy is coming home...she's a career airman." 

"That's wonderful!" A lot has changed in the time that Steve was in the ice, there was no standalone branch when he served, they were the Army Air Forces. 

"C-Could I convince you to record something for her? She won't believe that Grandma knows you!" Mallory asks, blushing while pulling her ear buds off and holding up her phone. She can't be more than sixteen. Steve feels flattered.

"Sure thing. What should I say?" 

"I don't know...what do you normally say?" Steve chuckles. 

"Whatever the request is? How about a hello? What's her rank?"

"Master Sergeant."

"Last name's Mayfield?" Steve has learned to ask, taking last names is something that isn't assumed anymore.

"Yeah."

"Alright....Do I look okay?" He asks, jokingly but his fingers still comb through his hair once. He certainly isn't anything special in his jeans, and a t-shirt, but its good enough. The girl blushes and nods. "Ok...tell me when you're ready."

"Okay...go."

"Hello Sergeant Amy Mayfield. I'm sitting with your family here at JFK and they said you would be coming home today. I wanted to say thank you for your service. From a former soldier to you, Welcome home." He smiled warmly at the camera. It had taken Steve a while to get used to this sort of thing, at first he didn't know what to say. Now it was a little easier, he just said what he would have wanted to hear. He waited, hearing his voice through the cellphone speaker as she replayed the video. "How is it?"

"Perfect! Thank you!" She looked up to him and beamed. "I'm going to show her right away....then...if it's okay with you....could I put it on Facebook?"

"Sure." It wasn't like she could tag him, he refused to make one. Though Tony had a PR team make his public page which he occasionally took a photo or two for. "How long has it been since you guys have seen her?"

"Fourteen months...this is her last tour abroad for a while." 

"Well I'm very excited for you, I bet that will be wonderful." Reuniting families always make Steve a little melancholy, not because he isn't happy for them, he always tears up watching the videos on Youtube. He remembers being stationed in Europe, knowing that he had no one to come home to. The only person that cared was fighting on the front lines with him. 

It's a mindset he forces himself out of as he chats with Betty and her family for a little longer. When it's time for him to catch his flight he hugs Betty and makes a note to visit her when they're both back in New York. Steve gives the lounge one last look-over before he leaves to catch his flight.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. 
> 
> Tumblr: thevictorinox


End file.
